Vendetta
by nkhh923
Summary: An alternative take on Guy De Maupassant's Vendetta. Naley-ish .


_So this was originally my English coursework for my final year in school. LOL. I have adapted it for OTH. Basically it is a rewrite of a very old French story. . – I would suggest reading the original first so you can grasp where I am coming from. Hopefully you will all like it. Please R&R. I did get the highest grade in my school year for this story, but you may think it is rubbish lol, so let me know either way. Lucas' character is _Antoine Saverini _and Nathan's character is _Nicolas Ravolati.

_Original: __ht tp: /w ww .readbookon line.n et/r eadOn Line/1681/__ (take out the spaces)_

**Vendetta**.

I had felt someone following me, the dark and dirty breath on the back of my neck for the last two weeks, but every time I turned around there was no one there. I knew why they were following me: the money. Every month the people of Tree Hill have to pay half of their income to the Tree Hill mafia for 'protection'. Of course it wasn't protection from a criminal or from the wild animals that lurk around the woods, but from the mafia itself. In other words, we paid them not to kill us.

There was no one to help us with them; they were too busy trying to survive for themselves. The police were just as bad as the mafia, so corrupt that people would cross the street instead of walking past them; it was a lot safer.

This was the reason Tree Hill was such a poor town. People had very little income and then they had to give half of it to complete strangers, in the hope that they wouldn't die. I along with a lot of the other residents of the town couldn't afford to give any money, my wife. Haley had just given birth to our first child, a boy we had named Jamie. We'd been struggling for money for a very long time and with an extra mouth to feed we ended up paying the price.

My childhood best friend, Lucas Rowe, was the one sent to kill me. We had been friends all our lives, grown up together as he was just two days younger than me. When we turned twenty, he became associated with the Tree Hill Mafia. His father had passed away the year before and he turned to the 'black arts' as a way of dealing with the loss. His family had always been wealthy but after his father died he couldn't cope with the business or his grieving mother. When Joseph Bolganarie, the head of the gang, saw him fight in at one of the local bars he was very impressed, and later approached Lucas. Three weeks later, Lucas was one of the top hit men with the Tree Hill Mafia; he killed hundreds of people all around the world throughout his reign of terror. At first Lucas had felt the guilt. It overwhelmed him in fact, but over time he lost the guilt, along with the rest of his humanity.

Lucas's father was always a very rich man, so Lucas and his mother lived a very sheltered life. His mother was never aware of her Son's life as an assassin. She thought he was a fisherman, and the days he just disappeared were fishing trips further out to sea. Fishing was the main way of earning a living in Tree Hill because it was known for its big port, with nearly every man and boy working at sea. I didn't however. I worked in my shop, it was only a small workshop, but it was mine. My father had given it to me when he passed, so now, I mended boats and worked with wood. It didn't give us lots of money, but we had survived.

My wife and I had been together for 6 years when he killed her. We had made ourselves a little family with a small home just two streets away from my workshop. Haley was always there for me when I needed her, especially when my father had passed away, 4 years ago, but when she needed me most, I wasn't there.

I was the one to find her, there, lying on the steps outside our house. Just a small pool of blood pouring from her side, as soon as I saw her I knew it. It was him. Lucas had killed her. I ran to her the tears flowing from my eyes as if rain falling from storm clouds. Falling to my knees, I knew I couldn't do anything. It was too late. A note lay nearby but I couldn't move to pick it up.

The front door was wide open; I looked into the kitchen to see that Jamie was still lying softly, silently asleep, as if nothing had happened, in his crib, the crib I had made for Haley as a gift. Lucas had been in there, I could see from the rim on the material of Jamie's cover. Haley's blood, still wet covered the blue blanket. I couldn't understand why he had done it. Why take Haley but not Jamie?

Then I remembered the small note pinned to the door frame, it read "Next time it's Jamie, then YOU. L."

I ran in to see him in the crib, so innocent in all this, just born into a horrible situation. There was only one thing to be done. I had to give him up. I had no choice in it; if I didn't pay he would be dead, and I will never be able to afford to pay.

First I had to bury Haley; I thought of the plot in the back of the house, under the small apple tree, she'd be happy to know she was there. The leaves quietly fall off the branches in the autumn and the apples grow and give life, giving a beautiful view from the kitchen. Forty minutes later and she was in her resting place.

The pit of my stomach ached because I knew there was never going to be any justice for what Lucas had done to her. Not from the police, the mafia, me or God. Lucas had always thought no matter what he done that if he confessed to a holy man and prayed God would forgive him, so he forgave himself of his sins. I never knew that I was capable of such hate until that moment. It over took me and I didn't know what to do with myself.

There was a scream from the kitchen. I turned and there it was again, was he crying for attention or for help? Had he changed his mind and come back for Jamie as well? I ran in to find Jamie sitting up, tears streaming down his face. He was OK. I needed to take him somewhere safe. My mind reeled. We had no family, everyone had passed, and I couldn't trust anyone to help me. I thought of the church in the next town, it was perfect; the nuns would take care of him.

I dabbed the now dry blood off his blanket and wrapped him up tightly so he wouldn't get cold. Wrote a note to make sure they didn't try to look for me and kissed him for one last time. That was the last time I saw my Son, when I abandoned him outside the old stone church on that cold night. I waited in the shadows for someone to find him.

It wasn't long before he started to cry and I grew anxious, I was just about to run to him when I saw her. She walked around him bent down picked him up, and simultaneously spun round to see me in the bushes. I ran as fast as I could and the further I got the worse I felt. She called out for me to stop but I knew that for Jamie's sake I had to go on.

Three weeks later, I was shutting up my workshop late at night. I could feel him watching me from behind one of the boats. I thought to myself, "Just give up he's taken everything else from you why not let him take your life."

I realised that I couldn't let Haley and Jamie down another time. I had to survive and make him pay for what he had done to us.

I spun round on my heel so fast that he was shocked to know I'd seen him there. His face turned and I saw him for the first time since we were twenty. He'd changed but didn't like what he had become. Something behind his eyes gave way and he whispered, "Sorry...I have to do this." Before thrusting his arm into me. To the surprise of both of us I jumped to the right, and his knife stabbed me in the left arm.

We fought for minutes but it felt like days. I pushed him to the floor and he grabbed his knife ramming it into the back of my knee. As fast as I could I spun round, the pain pulling me to the ground and to his surprise, I lunged my fish knife into his chest piercing his heart, his blood gushed almost immediately and he sank to his knees. The blood felt as if it was burning my arms and hands, they were shaking uncontrollably, and I tried to help him. He pushed me away for the final time saying, "No, just run."

The boat I had just finished was tied to the docks. I grabbed an axe and hit the rope and I drifted off. I heard Lucas calling for and looked back at him lying on the ground. He quietly stuttered, "Thank you." As the shock of it finally hit me, I took a look round, and then looked back at Lucas, lying there now lifeless.

I ran through all the possibilities in my mind. What should I do? Should I run? I floated along the water, the smell of it engulfing me more and more with every meter. I went further into 

the Lake. I felt my life ebbing away with the tides of the water. My arm and leg throbbing, I needed to bandage it or cover it with something so I looked in the boat and found a small sack, ripped two strips off and tied one round my leg and the other I tied round my arm.

The darkness of the mountains from the other side of the lake gave me a sense of peace and welcomed me as I rowed. For about 2 hours I was rowing myself across the lake, when I finally arrived I found an old inn. I needed to get in there and feel safe; I already felt a great deal better being in a different town from the Tree Hill mafia and Lucas's now cold dead body. I felt as if I had the power, something inside of me felt sorry for Lucas and guilt rather than the anger I had felt earlier, he had thanked me for taking his life. He was thankful but I felt the guilt in the pit of my stomach and the bottom of my heart.

I knocked on the heavy wooden door of the inn. An old woman answered. She looked like all the strife she's ever felt in her life had been taken out on her face, the wrinkles looped round her eyes and mouth. With the odd mole appearing out of the lines in her face, she looked around two hundred years old but spoke like she was 60.

I begged for a room and she looked me up and down, seeing the desperation in my eyes, she grunted that I could pay for the accommodation by working for her. She stepped to her side letting me pass her.

Three months I lived and worked in the inn, asking God for forgiveness each and every day I was there. The old lady who ran the inn was a generous and forgiving woman; I took my time and eventually told her my story, Haley, Jamie, Lucas and the Mafia. She nodded along with my story and when I had finally finished she simply said, "God has forgiven you, it's time to forgive yourself." Before getting up from the bench we had been sitting on to answer the door to customers.

From the kitchen I heard her say, "Of Course. I'll just get him" in a shocked voice, then came in to the room telling me there was someone at the door for me. I paused, unable to breath for a few seconds. Then thought that whatever happened was meant to be. I quietly walked to the door and saw her.

She had aged considerably since I had last seen her but I knew as soon as I saw her it was her. Lucas's mother. She looked at me the look of disgust in her eyes, before shouting "Tear him! Tear him!"

That is the last thing I remember from my life on earth, now I sit quietly with Haley watching down on our son and guiding him through his.


End file.
